After All
by shuckface
Summary: After trial III Newt is having trouble sleeping. None of the gladers has seen Thomas since they'd arrived at WICKED's headquarters. Nobody knew if he was alive, even. And as it all becomes too much, Newt lets out what he's been holding back for so long. Contents some hopeful Newt/Thomas COMPLETED


_Death, will you take me tonight?  
I can't do it anymore.  
Can you take me with you?  
Away, where it's safe and sound._

* * *

"Newt, please." He heard Thomas's voice. "Kill me."  
Newt paniced about the fact that he was holding a gun to his friend's forehead. He cried, sobbed, even. "I can't do it, Tommy." He was begging, not paying attention to the fear and terror in Thomas's eyes.  
"YOU CAN!" Thomas screamed, spit flying. Newt was shaking his head. "No. no. No. No. NO!" He whispered, his voice rising steadily.  
Thomas's fingers pressed against Newt's on the trigger.  
"You can't leave me. Don't leave me alone. Please don't." He wept, losing the feeling in his body.  
"If there's a life after this, let me meet you in it." Thomas closed his eyes, pushed Newt's finger and let it happen.  
It was over.

He woke screaming, panting and sobbing heavily. "No!" He screamed, his whole body trembling badly.  
He saw someone sitting down on the bed next to him. His tears blurred his vision, but he was sure it was Minho.  
"Thomas again?" Minho asked and hugged him. Newt nodded and cried into Minho's shoulder.  
None of the gladers had seen Thomas since their third trial had started.  
No one even knew if he was alive.

Newt's nightmares had become worse every night and he knew Minho had nightmares, too. Even though, Minho's nightmares were just distorted happenings from the old days in the maze.  
His own were, unfortunaly, from his third trial and happenings in the maze.  
WICKED had packed him into a black room, had showed him recordings. Every day, they had shown him recordings of all his friends deaths in many versions. While he'd watched then he had believed they were real. They'd wiped his memory everyday again and after three weeks of torture, they'd given him his memory of trial three back.  
It was horrible, seeing every single one of his friends die in several ways. All at once. The first hours were pure horror, that fled through him. He had screamed his throat sore that day.  
And yet, worst of all were Thomas's deaths. WICKED knew about Newt's feelings for him. They had known since Thomas had climbed out of the box.  
And Newt hated them for it.

"He's probably dead." Newt whispered and let another sob shudder him. "No. Listen, Newt. You know Thomas, nothing could kill him." Minho said, held Newt a little tighter.  
Suddenly, something filled Newt with anger. It could have been the fact, that Minho was probably lying to him, or that he just missed Thomas more than anything.  
He let go off Minho, his face flushed red. Minho looke startled, shocked, even. "You don't know anything, do you?" Newt asked, his voice rising. "You aren't the one who had to see his friends die again every day. Over and over."  
"Newt.." Minho whispered and it was the first time that Newt had ever seen his friend at a loss for words. "No! Let me talk. I've seen what they can do. It's inhumane, brutal and horrifying. I've seen Thomas dying in countless ways. Don't tell me that nothing could kill him!_ Don't lie to me._" He was almost screaming the last words at Minho.  
"He's probably alright, Newt calm down." His voice was oddly calm for this situation. "I can't."  
"Why not? He will probably be back soon."  
In that moment, a weird feeling overwhelmed him; overwhelmed the feeling of sadness. It was scaring, not more. The words just slipped out of his mouth.  
"Because I love him. That's why."

Minho looked even more shocked than he had before. "What?" He asked, his eyes filling with tears. Something, that Newt wouldn't have expected. "I love him. Since he came out of that box."  
"Why didn't you tell me?" Minho held him by his shoulders, trying to get Newt to look at him.  
"It's too late now anyway." Newt muttered. "You can't love someone who's dead."  
"He isn't dead. Just believe me on this."  
"I can't."  
"You know what? As soon as were out of here, you tell him."  
Newt didn't answer. He just nodded and leaned back a little. "Thanks, Minho." He said after a while of silence.  
"I will go over to Frypan's now, anyway. I hope you're okay with that." Minho put on his trademark smirk and got up.  
"Sure thing." Newt answered, looking as his fingers.

As soon as he was all alone, he laid down and tried to sleep again.  
He distracted himself by thinking about the good times they'd had and the jokes they'd shared.  
When sleep almost took over he heard someone talking, saying his name.  
Almost instantly he pressed his hands over his ears and tried to scream, but there was something in his throat that wouldn't allow him to make a noice.  
_Newton. Listen to me._  
He knew this voice. It belonged to Rat-Man, one of the persons he felt the strongest hate for.  
_Things will get better. You'll get to see A2 in the auditorium tomorrow. So, please be there and take the other subjects from A and B with you. _  
Then it felt like an empty space spreading through his body. But then something else occured his mind.  
It took him several seconds to realise what Rat-Man had said. And as he did, a huge smile cracked on his face.  
_He was going to see Tommy again._


End file.
